Break Room
by ProspektsMarch161
Summary: A group of NCIS agents discovers Tony and Ziva's relationship in a different way than they had intended and suffer the consequences...TIVA, something to cheer us up after the season 6 finale!
1. Facebook

**Disclaimer: I don't own CBS or NCIS. I own some of the characters here though :)**

**This is just a short humour fic about a bunch of agents who find out about Tony and Ziva. I hope it's actually funny and not too complicated :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

7:00pm.

NCIS agent Zach Braff pushed another dollar note into the vending machine.

"Come on, take my money!" He cursed as the machine spat it out again with a whirr, and his eyes rested forlornly on the Mars bar on the other side of the glass. "Damn DiNozzo. If it wasn't for his busted-up dollar antics, I'd be in Mars heaven right now."

His two colleagues smirked behind him. "It wouldn't do you much harm to avoid that Mars bar once in a while."

"Speak for yourself, Rick."

Rick Trocker shook his head. "I do 100 push ups every morning, Braff. Got abs of _steel._" He slapped his stomach and grinned. "I'm the Brad Pitt of NCIS. Wanna try and match that?"

Zach turned around until the two were, not for the first time, head-to-head. However they were divided by a short, brown-haired woman who'd clearly seen it all before. "Listen, fellas. I'll have you know that neither of you deserves the title of Brad Pitt. Firstly, that's damn impossible to get, and second, the only guy who comes close to that title is Anthony DiNozzo, MCRT." She sighed dramatically and looked into the distance – which much to her annoyance was the wall 5 inches in front of her. "I'd be his Angelina any time."

Rick smiled down at her. "You can be mine, honey."

"I don't think she's that desperate. And besides, DiNozzo's got one", Zach said, shifting out of Rick's glare and onto a seat. "That hot Israeli girl. I don't know how true that is, though: I did after all get the information from that gremlin down in Autopsy."

Agent Jackson was known to jump at any chance for gossip, and stepped away from Rick. She sat down opposite Zach, and he had the uncomfortable feeling of her eyes boring into his skull. "OH my god." Her tone sort of reminded him of the sound you make when you've been forced underwater for too long and you come back up. "How can you doubt it, Zach? Have you seen the way they act around each other? I mean come on, I wouldn't be surprised if they're an old married couple in disguise. OH, and Stacey Parsons from cyber crimes told me they make out all the time in the break room!"

Pleased with her display of knowledge about personal lives, she sank back into her chair and awaited reactions.

Zach looked at her dubiously. "In the break room? I highly doubt that. Their boss would skin them alive."

"I don't know," Rick stepped in, "I mean, we're talking about a guy who reads GSM at his desk when he's not working. He's not exactly _cautious._" A look of realisation crossed his face. "Hold on. _That _break room? Man, I'm never touching that table ever again. Hey...d'you think we should go up there?"

"Where?"

"The break room. Burst in on the action. Perhaps the start of a Facebook war?"

He grinned and Zach rolled his eyes, draining the last of his diet coke.

"You wanna be the one to answer to Leroy Jethro Gibbs when he finds pictures of his agents doing it less than a kilometre away from him?"

"He's never gonna actually find out. It's not like the man reads Facebook. Come _on._ Jackson, you'll come with me, right?"

Jackson huffed, but she obligingly pushed back her chair and started down the corridor, followed closely by Rick.

Much as Zach didn't want to be boiled by Agent Gibbs, he didn't like being left out, and called after them, "Seriously, you're actually going to do this? You know you're gonna get in _serious _trouble..." No answer. His desire to be sociable overcame his fear of Agent Gibbs and he scurried after them, throwing his coke can in the recycling box on the way.

The corridors of NCIS were almost deserted at this time of the evening, and something suddenly occurred to Zach as he tailed his co-workers.

"Hold on. They will have gone home by now, It's almost 8:00."

Rick kept on walking. "Agent Larson told me they had some huge murder case today; they're both working overtime on the paperwork. I reckon they'll value a chance to get away from their boss and just be...with...each other."

Jackson sniggered, but they all shut up as they walked round the bullpen.

"Not here. Not by the vending machine. That can only mean one thing." Rick grinned again and the smile stayed on his lips until the trio got to within about three metres of the break room. Much to Rick and Jackson's dismay, the glass in the door had been removed and replaced with a taped-down piece of black card, but they made up for it by Rick shoving his ear up against the keyhole in the door.

"Gossip!" He whispered, listening in.

"_Tony....Tony, stop."_

A throaty chuckle came from the senior field agent. _"Come on, sweetcheeks. A whole day stuck with the boss man working out details of a case that went nowhere. I deserve a treat!"_

"_What kind of treat are you considering, Tony?"_

"_I would've thought you knew by now." _Rick was desperate to hear more, being positive that his Facebook status would explode if he leaked all this, but he was promptly kicked out of his position by Jackson. "Stop hogging the fun!"

She heard kissing noises through the keyhole, and the heavy breathing combined with the popping of shirt buttons made her think that it might be taken further than just making out. "Ah, second base." She winked at Zach and Rick.

"_Ziva...Zivaaa...."_

She laughed. _"I don't think the break room was designed for this purpose."_

"_Well, there's no room here that is designed for this purpose except maybe the showers, and no one ever comes in here, so this is probably the best place."_

Jackson shuddered. She was _never _going to touch that table ever again.

"_Ziva...I wonder if anyone has ever done this in here before."_

"_I wouldn't put it past the director and Gibbs."_

She heard them both laugh, until their laughs were converted into heavy breaths. In her years of gossiping, she'd heard the "screamer" rumours about Officer David, and she decided that she didn't particularly want to know any more.

"Right, I'm going. Every minute I spend here jeopardises my likelihood of living past Friday." She saw Zach walk back towards his office, but noticed that Rick was standing behind her, his phone pressed up against where her ear used to be. "What are you doing?"

"Getting proof" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she noticed the red "record" button on his phone was lit up.

*~*~*

_Sound clip posted._

Rick grinned. This was going to become legend. He would be known by name for years – agents would recite that it was him who posted the most scandalous message ever on Facebook.

He strolled into the offices around the bullpen, free of any care or concern.

He hadn't counted on Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' computer skills.

"_Ahem._ Agent Rick Trocker. A word, please?"

_Oh crap._

"Yes...um...sir?" He moved to stand precariously in front of Gibbs' desk, and Gibbs threw a tatty-looking earphone at him. Rick noticed that the earphones were connected to the computer.

"Would you explain to me the meaning of _this._"

Rick heard very familiar moaning and murmuring through the earphones, and his face turned ghost white. He tried to manage a smile as he looked down at Gibbs' glower.

"I guess...your agents just can't keep their hands off each other, sir."

* * *

**Did the season finale depress anyone else? I'm not too scared, but I don't know what to think. Last year I got my hopes up with TIVA fics about what happens after judgement day - so I've decided not to read any post-Aliyah fics until we get to season 7, because I don't want to get my hopes up. Sorry to everyone who writes them, this shouldn't be a damper on your...uh...writing spirits! :)**

**Please review, Lotts xx**


	2. Paper

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or CBS. I do own some of the characters in this, though. Even if one of them is an idiot.**

**Hi again :) **

**ok so I hadn't originally done this as more than a oneshot, but I had a good idea for a second chapter, so here it is! a few things: Xanthe _is_ a girl's name, it's greek for yellow; and I don't know how NCIS reports are written but I hope my interpretation is ok.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

10:00am.

Agent Rick Trocker scowled as he walked back to his desk.

He was scowling because he was in a foul mood, and he was in a foul mood for three reasons.

Firstly, after Agent Gibbs' complaint, his boss had given him 3 months of bad paperwork to correct. Secondly, his buddies-in-crime had got off scot free. And thirdly, he got the impression that they were both giggling at him from behind their desks.

There was an awkward silence as he sat down and started to file through the mound of paper. All he heard was the chatter of passing Agents, and the sound of the copy machine, the latter serving as an annoying reminder of his punishment. He'd thought that the incident had passed the minds of his co-workers, until Agent Xanthe Jackson spoke from her desk.

"Oh damn. This line was meant to be in capitals, and oh, I've printed it out and it's _not_. Hey Rick, mind correcting it for me?" Zach and Jackson spluttered into fits of laughter, and Rick resisted the urge to whack them round the head.

"Hahahahahaha. That's _funny, _Jackson. Really _funny._" He sighed. This day could not get any worse.

A visit from his pointy-haired boss proved him wrong. "Agent Trocker," he barked, "There's a senior field agent here who wants a word. In fact, he'd like to speak to all of you. In the break room, five minutes."

They all got up carefully from their desks and Rick smiled. "Ah, this land of the USA. Everyone _deserving of justice_," he shot a wide eyed-stare at his colleagues, "is brought to it."

Zach looked as if he was a 6-year-old who had just been sent to the principal's office, but Jackson glared at him. "Have you considered who is there to dish out the "justice", Rick? If it's Agent DiNozzo, he'll call on his Mossad beau and we'll be put through the shredders. If it's Officer David, she won't even need a shredder. And if it's Agent Gibbs, he's probably asking us for details of what they actually did and where, not to mention how. Which we don't know."

An uneasy smile played on Rick's lips as he put on what was easily the worse redneck accent Jackson had ever heard. "All's I know's is you guys are gonna chewed out, and that ain't not bad."

They reached the break room, where the black card still hung over the glass in the door.

Rick's confident facade dropped. "Well, who's going in first?"

"Not me."

"Not me."

Their gazes rested on Rick. Jackson smirked. "Considering Rick's the one that landed us in this pile of crap, I suggest he's the one to go in first."

"Anything for my Angelina." He grimaced and Jackson grinned.

"Keep wishing, Trockie."

Rick pushed the door open, ready to be met with an array of karate chops. They never came. Instead, he was greeted by a casual-looking Anthony DiNozzo and a handshake. "Hey. You're Rick, right? We met at the Christmas party?"

Rick shifted to let the others come in, then shut the door. Tony gestured for them to sit at the chairs. "So. How's everything down in your department? No one from cyber crimes causing any...mishaps, or anything?"

Zach looked taken aback at the display of informality. He'd been expecting a savage beating followed by a paperwork order.

"No sir."

Tony smiled his Casanova smile. "Great. 'Cause you know, you guys sometimes don't think we big shots up in the bullpen care about you, but we do. You're the little cogs that turn this agency round. We couldn't function without you guys, and sometimes, y'know, I don't think we appreciate you enough. You might not always know it, or hear about it, but we do. I just thought, 'cause you guys have worked really hard for us recently, what with this murder case and all that, I'd bring you up here to say thanks. So," he chuckled uneasily, "just...thanks."

Jackson and Zach looked like they had been hit by a bomb, but Rick's face had twisted into a sickening smile. "Wow._ Thanks_, Agent DiNozzo. I guess I'd like to say that we all appreciate the hard work you do up there, stopping crimes and all."

His colleagues nodded vacantly, and Tony walked around and opened the door. "Great. So...I'll see you guys around." One by one they walked out of the break room, still with astonished expressions on their faces, Tony smiling after them, until they were out of sight. A voice came from behind him.

"I never knew you could keep up such a _charming _smile for so long."

Tony turned round and met his partner's gaze. "Only with you." He wrapped his arms round her waist and started placing kisses up her neck.

"Stop it!" She laughed, "Everyone can see out here."

He brushed her hair to one side and whispered in her ear, "Did you do it?"

"Mmhmm. Now stop it. Anyone could walk past at any moment, and we don't want Gibbs to get any angrier than he already is. I don't know about you, but I do not particularly want another week of desk duty–"

He placed a tentative finger on her lips. "Wanna take this back inside?"

Ziva stepped through the open door and pulled him with her. "I'd _love _to."

He laughed throatily and pinned her against the wall with kisses, slamming the break room door shut behind him.

*~*~*

"Okay, what the _hell _was that?" Zach's voice echoed through the empty cubicles.

"I think it's known as luck."

Rick scoffed. "Sure, Jackson. It was _luck_ that the guy who got put on desk duty for 2 weeks because of us just gave us the pep talk from sugary Disneyland."

"Anyway, Zach and me have got social lives to organise, and oh wait – you have some paperwork to correct. Have fun!"

Something struck Rick as he sat as his desk. Something was different. Then he noticed – the pile of mistyped paperwork was about twice as high as is had been when he left. Someone had _doubled _the pile. He couldn't believe it. This was going to take him _ages_. In a worse mood than he had been since the whole thing started, he picked up the first piece on the pile.

_Case Report_

_NCIS investigated the murder of Rick Trocke3r._

_Crime Scene: Rick's cubicle in the offices of NCIS._

_Murder weapon used: Paperclips. Discovered at crime scene covered in blood._

_Suspects: Any of Rick's colleagues. Hated at his workplace for his idiotic and backstabbing manner._

_Method:..._

Astonished, Rick looked at the method and came close to puking. Even as a horror movie veteran, he'd never seen something so gruesomely described.

The pointy-haired boss rounded the corner with the usual stern expression on his face. "I've counted those papers, Trocker. I don't want to see _any_ in the trash without copies or I will leave your fate down to Agent Gibbs."

Rick stuck two fingers up once he was out of sight, and noticed that his two colleagues had left. It took him the best part of five minutes to type out all the gory details of the method, complete with the tiny typo at the beginning corrected. Clamping his hand on his favourite stressball, he chucked the original paper in the filing and sent the "corrected" version to the printer. He picked up the next piece of paper, and felt his face flush bright red with anger.

_Case Report_

_NCIS investigated the m3urder of Rick Trocker._

_Crime Scene: The Break Room of NCIS._

_Murder weapon used: Stapler. Discovered at crime scene covered in blood._

_Suspects: Any of Rick's colleagues. Hated at his workplace for his stupid and snitching manner._

_Method:..._

And another gorifying method for Rick to read and imagine his own death. Enraged, he flicked through the top half of the papers just to make sure. And he was right. Each one had a different typo, a different weapon, a different crime scene, and a different method, but each one detailed his murder. And each one had the same note written at the bottom:

_Case Report Typed up by: _

_Agent Anthony DiNozzo/Officer Ziva David. In what SHOULD HAVE BEEN OUR FREE TIME, TROCKER, THAT'LL TEACH YOU TO PRY INTO OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES! ENJOY 6 HOURS MORE PAPERWORK!!_

Agent Rick Trocker looked daggers at the staircase leading to MCRT. He must have revenge.

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**So what do you think? Should I do another chapter?**

**Lotts xx**


	3. Probie

**Disclaimer: I don't own CBS or NCIS. I do own Rick and Shaw and Jackson, though.**

**Hi again :)**

**So, new chapter, this one's not too interesting cos there's no pranks (I haven't come up with a good one yet. If you have one, feel free to review!), but it's from McGee's point of view for all you McGee lovers who were pissed that he's not in the story yet. **

**Oh and as for the Chandler Bing photo face, if you google it you will probably get it. It's a sort of toothy grin.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

7:00pm.

There were only two other agents in the whole squadroom when McGee walked out of the lift. All the lights were off except for two desk lights, and he knew for a fact that the other agents were probably drinking in NCIS's bar haunt to recover from the impossibly boring inter-departmental meeting, but he didn't know why his fellow workers had been spared the torture.

"Why aren't you guys at the....uh...." He tailed off as he realised that Tony's arms were tight around Ziva's waist and his lips were, well, on hers. He knew what was going on between them – hell, anyone at NCIS who used Facebook now knew about it in more detail than they probably would have preferred – but that still didn't quite prepare him for the sight of them together. They broke apart quickly once they heard his voice, and walked back to their desks.

"Sorry, McGee. We did not see you coming." Ziva tried to apologise seriously, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. Tony, however, made no point of concealing his 100-watt grin.

"That's...um...ok. And – hold on." McGee's eyes narrowed as he noticed the differences. "Ziva, your shirt's on inside out. And Tony's hair has gone all crazy. You didn't–" He raised his eyebrows, which was returned with a wink from Tony. "Oh god. It wasn't the break room was it? When – you – but –" He staggered back into his chair, trying not to think about what might have happened had he not come in, or worse, what might have met his gaze had he come in 5 minutes later.

"My thoughts exactly, McPrude." He grinned at Ziva.

McGee regained his composition slightly. "You know Gibbs is going to _murder _you when he finds out you're fooling around on paperwork time."

His co-workers wore the grins of people who knew something he didn't.

"He's not going to."

"Oh yeah? That idiot Rick Trocker posted the last bit of proof on Facebook. If Gibbs gets any madder then he's going to end up taking it out on me too."

Tony leaned back in his chair as Ziva started playing with her knife. "You needn't worry about that, McGee. Tony and I have dealt with Trocker."

"Yeah probie. No need to probe. Keep your probing to your own probetastic probe-lems. And sweetcheeks," McGee cringed, "please stop playing with your weapon like that, unless you want to meet in the break room in 5 minutes. Hopefully with less clothes on than you currently have. All your dangerous stuff is kind of a turn-on."

"Don't you two have _paperwork_ to do? I hear your boss is a real stiff on tardiness." McGee smirked.

The senior field agent returned with the worst fake laughing noises McGee had ever heard. "Hilarious, McSarcasm. However I think you'll find that most of the paperwork Officer David and I were assigned has already been completed by a certain person."

"Who?"

Tony got up and walked towards the younger agent's desk. "Aha. Now you want to know? Well forget it. It will remain a mystery."

Ziva was next to get up from her chair. She'd pulled her hair out of the ponytail it had been in that morning, and one side hung tantalisingly over her right eye as she sauntered towards her partner. Her face was inches away from her Tony's chest, and, much to McGee's horror, she slowly started tracing a line up his shirt with her finger. "Mystery does make things go with more of a...swing, wouldn't you say, Tony?"

He smiled and put his hands on her hips. "Oh, I would _definitely _say so, Officer David."

Deciding he couldn't take any more of his colleagues' suggestive banter, McGee swept up his backpack and walked towards the elevator again. "Y'know, I don't have any work to do. I'm sure you can handle most of it. You guys can do it. I mean...you can...do the paperwork. I'm going to drown any vomit-inducing images I have with some alcohol."

Besides their laughing, he heard slightly more than he would have liked to hear as the elevator door closed.

*~*~*

"Yeah, I'll have a martini, thanks." Much as his head was already pounding, McGee didn't think another glass of hard alcohol would do him any harm.

The place was packed with NCIS agents, from gun-toting bodyguards to tech probies who valued this as their one chance for a social life. A couple were quietly thinking things through, but the evening after the interdepartmental meeting was a classic opportunity for agents to hit on each other, snide about one another, and generally catch up on gossip. Of course, there was only one piece of gossip on everyone's mind this evening.

"Oh my god. Did you hear that Agent DiNozzo and Officer David made out in the break room?"

"_I _heard that they slept together in MTAC after their boss made them do paperwork."

"That's nothing. That goth forensic scientist told me that they pulled a prank on that idiot who posted the sound clip on Facebook."

This particular story caught McGee's attention.

"Hey, did she say what prank?"

The agent in question whorled to face him on her stool. She was pretty, and young – probably a couple of years younger than Ziva – and she had long birch coloured hair that went down the length of her back. McGee could have sworn he'd seen her hanging around the "gossip queens" of cyber crimes, and she was clearly enjoying the chance to get away from a computer.

"Do I look like direct enquiries? All she said was that they'd taken advantage of his punishment." He saw her look again at his face for a moment. "Hey, hold on. I know you. You worked at cyber crimes for a while, didn't you? Agent McGee. You caused quite a spark among my friends."

"Well..." McGee now had to deal with the awkward fact that he didn't have a clue who the hell she was. "I...y'know, I try. Not...that I _have to _try to be sexy or anything – I didn't mean sexy, I mean, you know..."

Cue awkward silence.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"Well...no."

He tried his best to imitate Tony's smile to break the ice, but it ended up with his new 'friend' being on the receiving end of Chandler Bing's photo face.

"I'm Shaw. Jennifer." She smiled. "So Tim, not to sound like a talk show host, but what's it like having to deal with your colleagues being frisky when you're around?"

He chuckled. "It's...it's weird. I actually came here to get away from it. I went back to the bullpen and they were there, sort of...making out. God knows what would have happened if I haven't intruded. God knows what's happening now...anyway, my being there didn't really change anything, they kept flirting. I sort of felt like a third wheel, y'know?"

Shaw tilted her head and put a reassuring – or maybe it was something else – hand on his hand. "You know, men who are in touch with their feelings are often the most attractive."

"Ahh...." He moved his hand well out of reach. "So, you sure Abby didn't say anything about Tony and Ziva's prank?"

"No," Shaw huffed, "like I _said_, all she said was that their plan involved taking advantage of his punishment."

"Oh. What was his punishment?"

She clearly wanted to talk about more intimate things, but he right in guessing that being 'attractive' had gained him an edge. "Agent Jackson told me he'd been ordered to correct a load of bad paperwork. She said the look on his face when he'd found that the pile was doubled was _priceless._"

Something dawned on McGee and he grinned.

"Oh, that might have been what they were up to yesterday. Tony said they were going to 'take care of some business', and I assumed that they meant they were going to...um..." He didn't have to say it out loud for them both to understand what he was talking about, "but _that _might have had something to do with it. DiNozzo never could keep a secret. He's probably the reason for all these rumours going round. It wouldn't surprise me if he started them all himself."

Realising the look of intense boredom on Agent Shaw's face, he pushed his empty glass to the front of the counter and laid a $20 note on the bar.

"This one's on me." He attempted 'attractive' one more time, but she wore the trademark rejection smile and to be honest, he didn't blame her. "I'll...see you around."

McGee was so busy plotting ways to find out more about the apparent team-war he sensed was about to start that he forgot to pick up the change as he stumbled tipsily out of the bar.

* * *

**Hope you liked! Will probably update tomorrow or the day after. Please review :)**

**Lotts xx**


	4. Desk

**Disclaimer: I don't own CBS or NCIS. I own some of the other characters in this though.**

**Hi again :)**

**There's a bit of fluff in this one, cos I felt that without it it wouldn't really qualify as tiva. oh and 626 hits in 1 hour for the last chapter! I'm so happy :)**

**This chapter's dedicated 2 people: first, BritishNinjaChick, who always reviews and has awesome ideas, and second, your royal highness, for being exactly what her name says, and lending me her idea! :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

10:00am.

"Come _on_. I can't exactly do it myself. I haven't even finished half that freaking pile yet! God knows what will happen if I do something else and they find out!"

Agent Jackson turned to face what looked like a whining 6-year-old, but in reality was a whining 36-year-old.

"No. I can't just _plant _rumours, you know." She leaned back in her chair and yawned. "It's taken me years of practice to become even this eloquent with words. Your revenge mission has nothing to do with me. I use my powers for good, not evil."

Rick smiled. "I'll make it worth your while."

This caught her attention, and her eyes narrowed, waiting for the catch.

"How?"

He wiggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, I think you know, Jackson."

She did know.

"According to Agent Skirrow, your apartment smells like squeezy cheese. Not the most...seductive odour, is it?" She smirked. "Not sure I want to be on the receiving end of that, not to mention your – oh, what do you call it again – 'charm'."

Much to her dismay, her confidence didn't put her partner off. "We could always head to the break room...I hear that it's the favourite makeout haunt of many an NCIS agent." He grinned. "Plus it's full of chocolate, which is an aphrodisiac."

Having been quiet until now, Zach Braff looked over the divider.

"So I'm guessing your stomach must be like a hot tub in Paris."

Rick scowled. "Hey, I think there's a brick wall somewhere that's missing a couple of comedians. You guys are just so _funny_. Anyways Jackson, if you don't want to do it, I could always get...oh I don't know." He decided to play into her worst fear. "Agent Crawford."

Realising that her gossip status was severely at stake, Jackson sharply reconsidered, and whirled to face Rick.

"_What?!_ That little pipsqueak from analysis?! She couldn't spread a story if her life depended on it. In fact, you can screw asking anyone else. _I'll _do it. Gimme that paper." She snatched the post-it note Rick had been waving, and her eyes widened considerably as she read what was written on it. "Whoa. I wouldn't like to be you if David and DiNozzo find out you started this."

Zach craned his neck to read it over the divider. "I wouldn't like to be them if Agent Gibbs _sees _this."

Rick smiled, trying to avert his eyes from the huge mound of paper that he could swear was whispering his name. At least his shock tactics had worked on someone. "Who cares? It's probably the truth anyway. So I need you to spread this around, right? Pull a couple of strings with Gibbs' friends. Then he should catch wind of it. But whatever you do, don't tell anyone that might mention it to DiNozzo or David."

"So basically, none of the women under 30." Jackson smirked.

Her friends were going to love this.

*~*~*

"Hey, save one for me!"

Relieved that the vending machines at NCIS weren't located in the break room, Jackson picked up a special K bar and sat at her usual table. The women around her were clearly identifiable as gossip queens. Highlighted hair, OTT lipstick, and an unusual taste for Chanel clothes.

The world had since moved on from the stories of Tony and Ziva's 'exploits', and as Jackson sat down she pricked her ears for anything she hadn't heard before.

"Oh, did you hear Nikki Jardine complained to the director because she found a hair on her desk?"

Their squeaky laughs drove away even the most tolerant agents. "Brilliant. And you ladies heard about Agent Shaw and Agent Armstrong, right?"

"Yeah, everybody thought they were trying to be the new DiNozzo and David."

"Uh huh. Until yesterday, I was down at Lucario's after the meeting and Shaw was _totally _hitting on McGee!"

"That dork from MCRT?"

"Yep."

Now was her chance to jump in and start something.

"Maybe she got the feeling that McGee was missing out on some action in the workplace. A very reliable source told me that DiNozzo and David did way more than make out on..." Every eye in the break room was on her. "Their boss' desk!"

Squeals and exclamations of "Oh my _GOD!_" rang out through the hallway, and although these people were her friends, she cringed slightly.

"Seriously?"

"Does he know?"

Jackson grinned at the attention she was getting. "Nope." _Not yet..._ "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No."

"No."

"No."

They shook their heads obligingly, but Jackson knew it meant about as much as Rick saying he was good in bed. Pleased with the impact she had made on the women at the table, she got up and walked back towards the cubicles. The reality of what could become of her if Officer David found out it was her who had started the rumour dawned on her, and she quickly turned and sprinted – with as much dignity as possible – back to the vending machines, but all the women had gone.

She looked at her watch. 20 minutes until the MCRT was due in – which meant she had about 20 minutes to live.

*~*~*

"Tony...we are due in in 20 minutes, Tony. What on earth are we going to say to Gibbs when we arrive like this?" Ziva whispered as her partner pressed kisses down her collarbone.

Tony grinned as an idea hit him and he rolled off her, so he was staring at the ceiling with his head on the pillow. "Maybe we don't have to," he breathed. "Pass me the phone, would you sweetcheeks?"

She smiled sarcastically as she reached to pick it up off the nightstand. "Always at your service, my little hairy butt."

He dialled the familiar number, and the tone only had to bleep 3 times before McGee picked up.

"Tony? What do you want?"

"How's it going, Probie? Me and Ziva aren't really on our way to work yet, so could you tell Gibbs–"

"You're _kidding._" McGee looked around the bullpen to check his boss wasn't anywhere in hearing distance. "You want me to tell Gibbs that you're going to be late for work because you spent the morning having sex with your partner at her apartment and therefore have no clothes to come to work in? I'd like to see what job – or perhaps hospital – you end up in after this one."

"Aw, come _on, _Probie. Just 'cos you don't have a social life." Tony got slightly distracted from his persuasion techniques when he felt the grinning Israeli turn onto her side and push her front against him. "I mean...uh..."

McGee rolled his eyes. "DiNozzo, I don't really want to hear about what you and Ziva are doing there, but whatever it is I don't think Gibbs will hold it as an okay excuse for–"

He was interrupted by the man himself, striding formally into the squadroom. "An excuse for what?"

"Good luck, Tony."

McGee smirked as he passed the phone over to Gibbs.

"Ah, DiNozzo. I'm sure you're well aware that you're due here in 15 minutes."

Tony's face fell, and he tried an uneasy smile, not that it would show through the phone. He noticed Ziva eyeing him suspiciously and mouthed '_Gibbs_'.

"Oh...h-hey boss. How's things? I mean, yeah, I should probably find out, but uh...yeah I was just going to say that...me and Ziva can't come into work this morning."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes involuntarily as he sat down in his chair, coffee in hand.

"I see, DiNozzo. Care to tell me why the hell not?"

He stumbled for an excuse, filling the spare time with his chronically overused nervous laughter. "Uh...we've got clinical exhaustion from last night's...events." Ziva smiled at his seemingly lame idea – ironically, after what they had actually done last night and that morning, he wasn't being entirely dishonest.

"Those events being?"

Despite the inevitably brilliant look that would form on Gibbs' face if he did, DiNozzo wasn't about to say 'the hottest sex ever'. "Um...we went for a run."

"Sure, DiNozzo. Let me make this clear. The fact that you are tired from doing lord knows what all morning and night with your partner does not mean you are allowed to get out of work. I expect both your _fully clothed _asses here in less than an hour."

Tony put the phone down, kissing his partner passionately in the process. She returned it happily and pulled him closer to her.

"We need to be at work in less than an hour, sweetcheeks. I think that gives us enough time to..."

They broke apart and she placed a silencing finger on his lips.

"Do not think I don't know. But we have forty-five minutes. That doesn't sound like you at _all_."

Tony grinned. "Don't you believe it, Officer David." He purred against her mouth before smashing his lips against hers.

*~*~*

"Well..." Having stayed silent for most of the phone call, and now basking in the resulting awkward silence, McGee made another tragic attempt at conversation. "At least they're keeping it out of the office." Gibbs stayed thoughtfully soundless, accepting McGee's idea, until he banged his coffee cup against the table and pushed himself into standing.

"Going for a refill."

He made his way down to the Coffee place, and was met by an enthusiastic analyst probie whom he often referred to as 'Mini-Jardine'.

"Agent Gibbs! Agent Gibbs!" Mini-Jardine had the face of a kid who's just learned something she'd been taught a year ago. "You heard about what your agents did, right? How could you _ever _use your desk again?!" She giggled.

"Huh?" He looked at her, prepared for some story about the incredibly fascinating origins of his desk.

"Your agents – DiNozzo and David. Couple of days ago, after that whole Facebook thing, they had sex on your desk!"

"_WHAT?!_"

* * *

**Mad Gibbs! Hope you liked :)**

**Lotts xx**


	5. Glue

**Disclaimer: I don't own CBS or NCIS. I _do _own Crawford and Jackson and Rick and...actually, that's about it in this chapter.**

**Hi again **

**Thankyou so much for your reviews! They make me happy :) and the most hits I've ever got in one day yesterday - 901! :D so to all you people who read but don't review, I care about you just as much!**

**Anyways, this chapter's not too long, but I hope it's ok.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

12:00am.

That was one of the great things about coming in on a Sunday, even if it was for paperwork. Not much boss influence. Or so he thought. Until now, Anthony DiNozzo had never seen his boss occupying any seat other than his own, and when he walked in to find his boss sitting at _his _desk, he resisted the temptation to sit on his lap just for the fun of it.

"Um, boss?"

Gibbs was tapping away at Tony's computer. "Nice of you to join us, DiNozzo."

"Uhh...you know you're sitting at my desk."

"Yep."

A bruised area on the back of his head told him not to answer back, and so he headed for the floor. Pulling out his phone, he desperately tried to conceal it from Gibbs as he texted...well, there was only one person.

_Boss is acting really weird. He's sitting at my desk! What did we do?_

He waited for about five minutes, and noticed the smug look on McGee's face. Oh, he was going to get it for this. Maybe he'd put some sort of confusion potion in Gibbs' coffee that morning? Maybe he'd switched all the things on Gibbs' and Tony's desks, so Gibbs thought Tony's was his? He looked up at his desk. No, the mighty mouse stapler still stood strong on his desk. The phone suddenly buzzed and he looked at the message.

_Oh, I don't know, Tony. Maybe we broke one of his key rules? And maybe we slept together less than a kilometre away from him? But seriously, I am sure you will be able to come up with something. I'll be there in five minutes._

Tony rolled his eyes, regretting teaching his partner the entire American concept of sarcasm.

_Ha ha. Not. I'm serious!_

He didn't get another reply – instead he got his partner sweeping into the bullpen with a look of utter confusion. She stopped at the parting, then dropped her expression and sat calmly at her desk, pulling everything out of her backpack as if it was all normal. He sent her another text.

_What are you doing??_

Ziva didn't look up from what she was doing, but he saw her pull out her phone and start texting a reply.

_He's not sitting at my desk :) why don't you just ask him if you can sit at his desk? Perhaps that is what he intends?_

"If you two idiots think I don't know that you're having a conversation, you're dumber than I gave you credit for."

Tony smiled.

"Nothing that you didn't know before, boss. Hey, since you're using my desk, uh...would it be okay if I used yours?"

He saw a smirk escape his Gibbs' lips.

"Sure."

Tony quickly picked up his stuff, which was now spread on the floor around him, and planted himself awkwardly at his boss' desk. It brought back eerie memories of the 4 months when his Gibbs wasn't there, but he was relieved as he looked over and saw that McGee hadn't yet morphed into Agent Lee.

"Enjoying it over there, DiNozzo?"

Tony exchanged a wide-eyed look with his partner. "Sure boss. It's...it's comfy, y'know, the back support on the chair and all–" he proved his last point by giving a sharp tug on the height adjuster, however unbeknownst to him, he pulled on the wrong lever, and the chair sank until his shoulders were just about level with the desk.

He saw Ziva and the Probie desperately try to hide giggles.

"I'm sure you know it's comfortable, DiNozzo."

"Huh?" The confusion in his voice was evident, and it didn't look like something Gibbs appreciated. He made it seem even more so by suddenly getting up from Tony's desk and walking to stand in front of his.

"I can't use this desk now," he hissed, "and you wanna know why?"

Tony shrugged. "Termites, boss?"

"I can't use it because I don't really feel _comfortable _doing my work on a desk that you and your partner have done _your _'work' on."

"What?!"

"Don't fake stupidity, Tony. I know you and Ziva slept together right here, on this desk. And I don't want to know _any _more about it. So firstly, you're both on another month of paperwork, secondly, any more calling in sick because you're tired from the past evening's "events" will result in most likely a savage beating, and thirdly, you're gonna spend the remainder of this afternoon cleaning my desk."

Tony and Ziva's eyes widened to the point of no return as they stared up at their boss.

"WHAT?! I didn't – _we _didn't – we wouldn't!" This didn't seem to convince Gibbs, and he kept up the disbelieving glare.

"I'm not an idiot. You may as well own up to it."

"No! Look, I'll admit that the reason we were late today wasn't exactly a good reason...but we would never do that! Someone must have made it up!"

The image of Rick Trocker suddenly flashed in his mind.

"And who exactly would that be, DiNozzo?"

"Well....I don't know boss. But I'm sure me and Ziva will be able to figure it out."

Gibbs looked suspiciously between him and his partner. It did seem like the kind of thing they would do, but much like David he was a human lie detector and at this moment in time, he detected no lies.

"All right. You have until 3:00pm to convince me that it was a rumour. After that it's desk duty, and I'll be using yours in the meantime. But now, I'm going to get coffee."

Ziva looked at her partner in despair as Gibbs left the bullpen. "What are we going to do now?"

"Let's ask the McGoo, he seems to be pretty involved in it."

McGee looked up from his desk, suddenly recoiling from the two pairs of narrowed eyes that seemed to be cutting slits in him. "Look guys, I didn't hear _anything _from Rick Trocker."

The Israeli walked over from her desk and leaned over to drill a hole in his forehead with her glare.

"I see. Who did you hear it from?"

McGee let out a sigh. "Look, just this girl down from analysis. But she told me not to repeat it–"

Tony followed his partner obediently out of the bullpen and down to analysis.

*~*~*

The two agents rested their elbows on the partition.

"You're..."

"Agent Crawford." Ziva couldn't help squinting slightly when she realised that Crawford bore an astonishing resemblance to Jardine.

Tony moved and sat on the end of her desk, wondering if she might pull out wet wipes and start cleaning the ground he moved across. "Here's the deal, Crawford. You tell us where you heard the rumour about us, and you don't end up with the delightful duty of cleaning my boss' desk this afternoon."

Her face fell slightly. "Oh....uh, I promised them I wouldn't tell. We all promised."

"You wanna clean Agent Gibbs' desk in front of him this afternoon?"

"Okay, fine..." Luckily for them, Crawford's fear of the legendary tales of what Ziva had done was greater than her fear of social exclusion. "They broke the story this morning – it was Jackson, She told us."

Rick's image flashed through Tony's mind yet again.

"Isn't she great friends with Rick Trocker?"

"Yeah, I mean, they're in the same department and all, but I don't think that means–"

Tony and Ziva started along to the corridor, leaving Crawford to ponder what would happen if someone found out she had grassed on Jackson. They walked side by side into one of the interview rooms and locked the door behind them.

"We can't just go up to her and ask her to tell Gibbs she made it up. They clearly pranked us 'cos of what we did to them, nice idea on that by the way. What do we do next?"

"I don't know. We should at least get them to confess – I do not want to have to be the one cleaning dry superglue stains off of Gibbs' desk."

He looked up and put on an evil grin. "Superglue..."

"What?"

The evil grin was now beginning to have an effect. "Ah, you took care of the last time, I'll field this one, sweetcheeks. In the meantime, the door is locked, Gibbs isn't expecting us for another hour, and someone's already in the break room."

She grinned as she tore off his jacket, pushing him against the orange wall and locking her lips on his.

* * *

**Dun dun duuuunnn....... **

**Anyways, funny story. Ok, so one of the characters is called Zach Braff. I couldn't think of names, so I went onto the crew list for some TV show (I can't remember which) and decided to pick a first name and a second name to use from somewhere. I got Zach from somewhere and then I couldn't find a good surname, so NO JOKES, I made Braff up. So then I got the review from SharadaGirl saying that his name was cool. So I googled the name for jokes, to see if there was actually anyone called that. ****The result? The STAR of Scrubs! No jokes, I don't really watch scrubs, but I NEVER knew he was called that! I had never thought of that name with him, I actually just made it up on the spot! Coincidences.**

**Lotts xx**


	6. Smiles

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or CBS, or KitKats, or ipods, or the guy on the most wanted wall. (really sorry if that offends anyone by the way, I don't mean it!)**

**Hi :)**

**Sorry, it's been more of a while since updates, but like my profile says you can never count on me being consistent, especially with revision and all that. Thanks for all the reviews and hits - 990, best ever, so maybe see if we can reach 1K this time? :D but seriously, thanks to everyone.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

2:00pm.

"Ah, revenge is sweet." Rick smiled and leaned back in his chair as his voice moved over the partition. "Did you hear, the two randy idiots from MCRT got the job of cleaning their boss' desk?"

Jackson didn't look away from her computer. "Tales of your evil deeds do not interest me, Trockie."

Having finished the mound of correction-paperwork that was dumped on him the previous day, Rick was in an annoyingly good mood, at least according to his co workers. He'd spent the entire morning attempting, and failing, to hum the theme tune to Mission Impossible. The whole floor was now on the verge of setting fire to his cubicle, including him and his ipod speakers, and Agent Jackson in the cubicle next to him was desperately trying to control the reflex she knew as the "fist of death" that currently seemed to be heading uncontrollably towards Rick's skull.

"Hey, remember earlier when we were talking about Brad Pitt? Sometimes I like to think of myself as more of a Tom Cruise. Or maybe....who was that guy in the film who killed that other guy?"

Zach swirled in his chair and craned his neck to glare over the partition.

"Oh, _I _don't know, Rick. Maybe you could look it up? Maybe you could put some earphones in? Maybe you could stitch your lips together? Maybe you could remove your voicebox? You see, all these things would _help _people, instead of what you're doing now. In America, we call it being an irritating ass."

Rick smiled at the attention he was getting. Despite his friends' sarcasm, _nothing _could bother him today. The sky was blue, birds were singing, his newfound enemies were scrubbing at some desk somewhere under the watchful eye of their boss. There was only one thing that could make this day better.

Candy.

"Hey grump twins. Wanna pay a visit to the fabled vending machines of yonder down the corridor?"

They both instantly swept up from their chairs, ecstatic to have a break from the mindless repetitive tasks that made up a case-less day of analysis. Rick grinned contently as Jackson and Zach followed him down the corridor, and they passed a couple of agents gossiping about the events of the past few days. It was like being a celebrity – people knew it was him who had posted the infamous clip on Facebook, people knew that they had been assigned to cleaning Gibbs' desk, people looked to him for information.

"Rick?"

He snapped out of his dreamy trance and looked at Jackson. "Yeah?"

"You wanted candy, you gonna get candy or what?"

Rick laughed and slid fifty cents into the machine, which delivered a KitKat in response. They ate and bantered, Zach and Jackson suffering the annoying satisfaction of their friend, and occasionally stopping to listen or to notice other agents discussing past events. Eventually Jackson went to sit down with some of the well-known gossip queens of analysis, and Zach awkwardly declared that he wanted to "get some work done" and left back to the cubicles. Rick was left to ponder the brilliance of his revenge plan, and also the brilliance of his life in general.

There wasn't much.

"Hey Angelina."

Jackson glared at him from her table while her friends _aww_ed.

"I'm heading back to the cubicles. Care to accompany me?"

She narrowed her eyes and grinned sarcastically, but followed him back to the cubicles, deciding that an afternoon spent listening to happy ramblings was more exciting than having to make up more interesting stories about her co-workers.

"You know, maybe I should become an actor. I have all the necessary qualities. Charming. Interesting. Attractive, of course."

Jackson smiled. "Haha. That's funny, Rick!" She didn't look at her seat as she sat down and turned on her computer.

Rick sat down idly and opened his email.

_To: Rick Trocker, Analysis; Xanthe Jackson, Analysis_

_From: Anonymous_

_Rick and Xanthe,_

_I'd like you to meet me in my office._

It was signed off by his boss, and he heard Jackson sigh as she opened it too.

"What the hell could we have done to upset the pointy-haired boss now?"

"If it's about those case reports, I did _not _write that bit about the watermelon holding a gun." Rick kept up his smirk. "You know what, I don't even care. Nothing can ruin my mood."

He got up.

His smile deflated as the chair came with him.

"What the _hell?!_"

Rick stumbled back to sitting on the chair. Several times he tried to push himself up off it, before realisation dawned on his face. His colleagues bit back giggles as he realised that the seat of his pants had been attached, by what means he didn't know, to the seat of the chair. Despairing, and trying to consider any possible escapes that wouldn't result in him losing some or all of his pants, he heard his computer _bing _and opened his mail, to receive an email from one Anthony DiNozzo. It consisted of a giant picture of – much to Rick's horror and understanding – a bottle of superglue, and some text. Rick felt his hands bunch into fists, and he read the words:

_Ah Rick. My partner and I loved your little rumour joke, as did, as I'm sure you're aware, our boss. I hope you like ours. We'll keep up with the superglue, plus some of my partner's surprise ninja tricks, each day until you email our boss telling him that you did it. P.S. don't think we let your little gossip-spreading friend off the hook, either._

Tony's words were verified as Rick heard his partner swear conspicuously and her wheely chair creaked.

"That DiNozzo! _RICK!"_

He cowered under the partition.

"Um...yeah?"

"You are _dead, _Trocker. How am I supposed to work like this? How can I walk around? I don't have a spare skirt! I'll be the laughing stock of every single agent in this damned place!" She started throwing pieces of blutack over the partition at him, and it hurt surprisingly more than Rick had imagined. "If it wasn't for _you _and _your _stupid childish revenge mission then I would never have been freaking stuck to the chair! This skirt was new! And now it's gonna have to be ripped into shreds! I'm going to have to walk around NCIS in freaking _pantyhose_! The perverts from financial are going to have a field day!"

Rick's eyes grew wide as he saw the ominously doom-inducing sight of his boss storming down the stairs, proceeding to glower at him and Jackson.

"Didn't you two get my email? You have five minutes to get into my office and to get your butts off those chairs."

Unbeknownst to him, this was harder for them than it sounded.

Rick went bright red, and started to desperately consider his options. Just to worsen the situation, his stressball suddenly exploded due to the current pressure it was under and sand flew all over his desk.

His eyes narrowed.

"This means _war._"

*~*~*

2:52pm.

"Boss, where are Tony and Ziva?"

Silence. He felt the "I'm-pretending-to-_work-_here" vibe coming off Gibbs, at least until his phone pierced the uncomfortable hush in the bullpen with jazz music.

"Tony?"

"McGoo! How's life back on the floor of no social life? Tell the boss that me and Ziva are going to be upstairs in about 5 minutes." He heard Ziva whisper "_10 minutes"_ in a low voice in the background, and shuddered.

"All right, Tony, but better not make it any longer than that. I...uh..." he turned away from Gibbs and covered his mouth. "I don't think Gibbs really wants to wait."

"That I don't, McGee. And you can tell DiNozzo that he and his partner's _business _can end now if he doesn't want to answer to Vance about why no other agent in NCIS will now use the break room for what it's supposed to be used for." McGee shrunk under his boss' sarcasm. "And also don't forget to remind him that he's due up here in 8 minutes or it's gonna be desk cleaning fun for the two of them for the rest of the afternoon."

"Just...don't be long, DiNozzo." The hang up tone came from the other end of the phone and he sighed. "They're going at it like freaking _bunnies._"

Five minutes later he heard laughs coming from the Most Wanted Wall. He assumed it wasn't the laughs of Bin Laden, and his assumptions proved right when his co-workers walked into the boardroom and attempted to wipe the village-missing-a-couple-of-idiots smiles off their faces. They stood obediently in front of Gibbs' desk and Ziva adopted a formal tone.

"We have found out who had started the rumour, Gibbs." She said, tactfully leaving out the part about pulling an equally embarassing revenge prank. "You should receive an email in a few minutes concerning who is responsible."

They happily sat at their desks and it seemed like the whole bullpen was waiting in awkward silence for Gibbs' famous expression to change.

_Bing._

Tony saw his partner lean back innocently to try and read what was in the email. He thanked Mossad for her training as she smiled and mouthed to him: "_Worked like a pendant._"

He rolled his eyes and mouthed back, "_Charm. Worked like a charm."_

Their silent conversation was cut short as Gibbs rose up off his chair to get the traditional 3:00 refill.

"Got a case. Tony, Ziva, want you to go down to Abby and get the guy's name. McGee, with me. Gear up, I'll be back in five minutes."

McGee stretched and yawned, switching off his monitor and starting to shove things into his backpack.

"Thank God. I've been sitting here all day. Feels like my butt's stuck to this chair."

Tony grinned at his partner.

"Oh McGoo, I'm sure there are people in worse situations right now."

* * *

**So, interdepartmental war! I'm not sure about how i'm going to end this, seeing as it was originally a one shot that's sort of progressed, but if you have any ideas then just PM or anything. I'll come up with something XD**

**Lotts xx**


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